


oh, what a world

by bookishgypsy



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2019-11-08 07:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 21,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishgypsy/pseuds/bookishgypsy
Summary: A collection of little drabbles and one-shots from prompts I've been receiving on Tumblr.





	1. what if

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had asked for prompts on Tumblr about a month ago and said I'd write a ten sentence fic for each one I got. Ended up getting about 20 times more than I thought I would so...bringing them over here as a collection of little drabbles & one-shots.
> 
> Title is from Kacey Musgraves' 'Oh, What a World.'

“What are you so afraid of?”

She looks down at his hand in hers, gripping on to her tightly. She only squeezes it back tighter, as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat, the only thing tethering her to this world.

“I want this,” she breathes out softly and his thumb rubs softly against her porcelain skin, a constant reminder that says _I’m here, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere_. “But what if….what if we’re just fooling ourselves, Liam? What if this doesn’t work out?”

“But what if it does?” Her eyes find his in the soft glow of sunlight bathing her room. His eyes pierce into her blue ones, and it terrifies her that no one in her life has ever looked at her like that, with so much conviction and passion and _love_. “Am I worth that chance? Are _we_ worth that chance?”

Fallon just nods and whispers, “Okay.”


	2. memory

“Remember our first marriage?”

“An odd thing to bring up during our first dance as husband and wife,” she breathes, weaving her arms tightly around his neck, blue eyes gazing into hazel ones. They pay no notice to their surroundings - bright flashes continuously shimmering around them and hundreds of pairs of eyes watching upon the newly married couple - they only see each other. “How could I forget? You turned my world upside-down.”

“Who would have thought our fake marriage would have led to us _actually_ getting married?”

“I thought you’d only be in my life a few days but,” she trails off softly, losing volume with every syllable she spoke, eyes losing contact with his for a brief moment.

“But?”

“I didn’t want you to leave.”

Liam just tugs his wife closer, Fallon leaning in close enough to rest her head against his chest, soaking in the moment while the slow melody fills the room around then.

“For the record, I didn’t want to leave either.“


	3. you always loved me when i couldn't love myself

They’d been together a few years now and he _still_ continued to amaze her.

Like today - it’s nothing particular that he’s done or doing. It’s just watching him lay sleepily in their bed while she does her makeup when it all hits her - like it so often does in random everyday moments.

God, she’d put him through hell.

She doesn’t know how she managed to still end up with this guy, how he’d manage to love her through everything they’d been through, everything she put him through.

She saunters over to the boy still half asleep against the white sheets and kisses him soundly against his lips.

His eyes lazily open at the loss of contact. “What was that for?”

“For loving me, even when it wasn’t easy,” she mutters quietly, slipping back under the covers and curling up against the warmth of his body. “You always loved me when I couldn’t love myself.”


	4. i thought you trusted me

“So, are you going to tell me who Emma is?”

He’s clad only in a towel, hair still wet and leaving little drops of water behind him when he steps out of the steamy bathroom.“How do you know about Emma?”

“She called you when you were in the shower,” she crosses her arms across her chest, strong and firm. “So, what? Are you cheating on me?”

“You do hear how ridiculous you sound right now, right?”

“Turns out there’s _lots_ of calls from _Emma_ within the last few weeks.”

“You went through my phone?” Liam only stares back at her and she swears what she sees in his eyes is hurt, hurt at her accusation. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do trust you.”

“Obviously not, Fallon!” His tone takes her by surprise, he hadn’t raised his voice like that with her since that fated night in Sun Valley. But, it’s not anger; it’s disappointment, defeat. Liam only sighs, “I should have known that trying to surprise you of all people wouldn’t work.”

“Surprise me?”

“Emma is my _sister_.” He walks to the side of his bed, head shaking back and forth in disbelief as he opens the draw and pulls out a small black velvet box. “She’s been helping me put together a special night so I could finally ask you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

Silence envelopes his small bedroom for a moment, both their eyes focused solely on that small jewelry box in his hands, until she speaks up and her voice slices through the stillness.

“Well, are you going to put it on my finger?”


	5. if we were to hypothetically have a baby...

It’s not until she sees the little plus sign on the stark white plastic stick resting on her bathroom vanity that her nerves turn into full blown panic.

“Shit.”

“Everything okay, babe?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Of course it’s _today_ he choses to back at the manor early. She hears his boots scuff against her hardwood floors becoming louder in volume with each step he takes as she shoves the positive result into the top drawer of her vanity right before he appears in the doorframe of her ensuite.

Liam makes his stride to close the distance between them, softly kissing her against the lips. “You alright?”

“Fine. Everything’s great.”

“You’ve gotta know I know you better than that,” he says as his hand reaches for her, intwining their fingers together loosely. “What’s going on?”

“So,” she trails lightly, eyes focused on their linked hands. It gives her the courage to continue. “If we were to hypothetically have a baby, how would you react?” She pauses and finds his eyes, blue meeting hazel, before adding, “hypothetically, of course.”

“Hypothetically?” Fallon nods watching him carefully, his body language, his demeanor. “Well, hypothetically, I’d be thrilled.”

She nods silently, hand still gripping on to his as if its her lifeline and uses her free hand to reach inside the drawer and pull out the pregnancy test, handing it over to him as he looks at it carefully. She can see in his eyes the moment sees the result, lips curving upward into the happiest of smiles.

“You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby?”

Liam drops the test almost immediately, using his grip on her hand to pull her in close and wrap her in arms.

“Hypothetically,” she mumbles against the warmth of his embrace.

“What exactly do you think hypothetically means?”


	6. you're the most important person in my life

They’d been fighting. 

Real, actual fighting. Not just the petty bickering that ends almost as quickly as it begins like they’re used to. It’s the fourth night in a row they’ve been up past midnight, at each other’s throats without reaching any sort of resolution.

She’s removing her makeup and she can hear the soft lull of his voice behind her, the words not stringing together clearly. She’d heard what he had to say, she didn’t need to hear it again. 

“You’re not even listening to what I have to say.”

But that instantly catches her ear.

She turns towards him, brushes past him without so much of a glance and argues, “Because it’s not your decision to make, Liam.”

“We’ve been together two years. I don’t think I’m stepping out of place when I tell you I think you’re making a mistake.”

“So, what? You don’t think I can’t handle myself?“

“That’s not…” Liam runs his hand through his hair, an action she’s all too familiar with the meaning of - frustration. “You want to know what I think?”

Her shoulders rise and fall, just once.

“I think you know I’m right.” She opens her mouth to object, but he speaks up before she has the chance to voice it. “You know this is a mistake. But, rather than admit that you’re wrong, you’re picking a fight with me.”

The sound of silence fills the air.

“You’re the most important person in my life, Fallon. You have to know that,” his tone almost sounds pleading, defeated, but she refuses to look in his direction. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

And just like she can feel the tears pooling in her eyes. 

Her eyes soften, just like her voice when she says, “Let’s just go to bed.”

They lay silently on their respective sides of her bed, a vastly different sound than their loud and accusing tones only moments ago.

She hates this. 

He’s lying inches away from her and it still feels like they couldn’t be further apart. 

She reaches out blindly for his hand, gripping it tightly, and when he squeezes back, it gives her hope that come morning, they’d be alright, that even through everything they were going to be okay.

They hang on until they fall asleep.


	7. there is no right moment

It’s the laugh that escapes her when he realizes he can’t put it off any longer.

He just watches her with rapt attention, drinking her coffee, hair still messy from last nights sleep and her face bare of any makeup. He can’t believe how lucky he is; how he ended up with this enigma of a woman. She could have anyone she wanted and she was with _him_. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t thank his lucky stars for her.

“What? Is there something on my face or something?”

He notices she’s caught on to him staring intensely at her. “No, it’s just….”

This isn’t how he pictured it all going down, it’s not even close, but the small blue box in his pant pocket has been weighing him down like a ton of bricks. There’s just something about the way she’s sitting next to him on the couch, the way her laugh sounds as it echoes throughout the room, the smile that’s etched on her face that tells him it’s _time_.

He pulls the Tiffany’s box out of his pocket, pulling it into frame for her to see and her eyes widen immediately at the realization of what he’s about to do, about to ask.

“Liam.”

“I’ve been carrying this around in my pocket for a month, waiting for the right time. There is no right moment. So, I’m just going to go ahead and ask right now.” The tiny blue box opens in his palm revealing a shiny, glimmering diamond and all she does is stare at it silently, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. “Because they’re all the right moments, if the moment means getting to spend forever with you.”

And he can’t picture doing it any other way so he drops to one knee in front of her. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Again?”

There isn’t the slightest bit of hesitation in her voice when she quickly responds. “Yes.”

He pulls her hand towards him and slides the silver band over her finger, but he can’t help but notice how her smile still shines brighter than the diamond.


	8. there's no way

He hears the quiet knock on his door at eight in the evening exactly.

Right on time, just like she always was. 

Her lips are on his the moment the barrier between them isn’t an obstacle, tumbling backwards into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind their desperate kisses. 

It’s a sick game they were playing. 

Their lips move hungrily against each others in perfect synchronization, their bodies molding together in a way they’d never fit together with anyone else. He feels her hands move against his chest, moving further down with each button she undoes on his shirt, so he breaks their contact for a moment to lift her shirt up over her head. 

It’s only fair to even the playing field. 

He pushes his lips back against hers and allows himself to melt into it until he feels the doubt circling inside her body. She pulls away from his warmth to look into his eyes, asking the same question she did every single night.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“What about your boyfriend?” 

She breathes heavily, eyeing him carefully. His shirts unbuttoned, she’s standing there clad in only her bra. They both knew what they wanted, both could only hope it would inevitably bring them together in the end, their timing was just never in their favor, so the vigorous cycle continued - meeting every night to pretend the rest of their lives didn’t exist and it was only the two of them. 

She doesn’t answer him; not with words, at least. 

She just covers his mouth with hers.


	9. because i love you

Showing up at his door at midnight isn’t exactly where she saw her day ending. Or beginning, she figures, depending on how you looked at it. He opens the door clad in only pajama bottoms, hair disheveled and sticking up in all different directions; he’d obviously been asleep.

“What are you doing here?” She can hear the surprise in his tone, can see the confusion in his face over her showing up at his door like this, at this hour. They hadn’t seen each other since the fateful night in Idaho, after all. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she breathes, thumb coming up to wipe the few stubborn stray tears that fall down her cheek. “You know what, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll just go.“

“Hey, hey.” He reaches out and finds her wrist and turns her body back to face him, tugging her lightly to pull her into his apartment, closing the door silently behind them. “You don’t get to show up at my doorstep this late with tears in your eyes and tell me everything’s okay when it’s obviously not.”

Liam leads her to his sofa, threading his fingers through hers and sitting besides her; he doesn’t say anything, just lets herself collect her thoughts and she can’t help but notice how his touch instantly calms her and makes her feel more at ease as he rubs circles with his thumb against her knuckle.

It _terrifies_ her.

 _He_ terrifies her.

“What’s going on, Fal?”

“It’s my brother,” she tries to push through the fear, but it’s all she can get out before she loses the words.

“What about Stephen?”

Her eyes find his and there’s that feeling again, that feeling of comfort and safety and security. And everything she wants to tell him just seems to dissipate into thin air when he looks at her like nothing else in the world matters but her. It’s so full of love and understanding that she closes up like a clam when she realizes she needs out of his apartment. She pulls her hand away from his in one swift motion and places it into her own lap muttering, “this was a mistake.”

“What? What’s a mistake?”

“This. Us,” she motions between them with her left hand. “Me coming here.”

She sees his demeanor change the moment she says it. The way his body tightens, the way his eyes gloss over.

“Of course it was,” he says, his voice laced with anger and disappointment and irritation. He runs his hand through his hair, an all but confirmation for her that he’s _frustrated_. “You’ve been here all of two seconds and we’re already back to this again.”

She’s all but out the door when she whips her head around at his statement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, c’mon, Fallon. You know exactly what that means.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did,” she says, voice increasing in loudness. “So, please, explain it to me.”

“You’re here, you’re gone, you’re here, you’re gone again.” His hands gesture back and forth in front of her, emphasizing his point. “You keep…dragging me back into your life but you won’t admit you have feelings for me. I can’t keep doing this.”

She just stares at him silently, eyes trailing to her feet because she just can’t look at him.

“Is this a sick joke to you, Fallon? Is it just some game? Otherwise, why do you keep doing this? Why keep pulling me into your life only to…”

“Because I love you!”

Suddenly, everything seems to move in slow motion. She breathes heavily, eyes wide in shock at her own revelation, heart beating fast inside her chest. And it doesn’t help that he just stands there, silently, the shock clear in his eyes at her comment just the same.

“I love you, okay? And I think I’ve loved you for a while now. It’s just…I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I’m sorry it’s taken me forever to catch up with you, but I’m scared. Because you terrify me and I don’t know how to handle all these new…”

His mouth covers hers, all their feelings for each other bubbling to the surface, lips moving against each other’s in perfect sync. They pull away, eyes finding each others in the dark night illuminated by his small lamp. And she’s terrified, terrified of what’s to come but somehow, when he speaks again, this calmness takes over and makes her feel like everything might just be okay if he’s by her side.

“I love you, too.”


	10. till the end of the line

He’d been treading carefully around her the past few days.

He tried his best to give her the space she needed, the comfort she needed, accommodating her need for everything to still feel normal, even when it wasn’t.

He could see the doubt swirling in her eyes, could feel the small distance she was putting between them, although he fought like hell to make sure she didn’t let that distance grow anymore than she was trying to.

 _“We’re not destined for the same fate as them,”_ he’d told her. _“We’re not your parents.“_

He knew her insecurities, knew them all too well. That her parents failed relationships only made her doubt herself and her ability to be happy with someone. To have someone truly care about her and make it last a lifetime.

And she could deny it as much as she wanted, but he knew her all too well to know that when she said it didn’t bother her, she was lying through her teeth and putting on a brave face.

And he _hated_ that. Hated how their mistakes made her doubt herself, doubt _them_ , because he loved her and she loved him and this wasn’t something he was going to let slip away so easily. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure their relationship didn’t suffer the same fate, make her believe they weren’t destined for the same fate because to him, she was his forever.

But, he knew her father finalizing _another_ divorce was only increasing those insecurities and doubts and bringing them bubbling right back up to the surface again.

He follows the sound of the piano echoing through the halls of the manor and finds her sitting at the bench, her fingers grazing the surface of the ivory keys effortlessly as she played the Elton John song she adored so much.

He admires her from afar for a moment, before ultimately making his way to her, sitting down beside her carefully, letting her know he’s there. Her fingers stop dancing against the white keys, dropping to her lap. She looks up slowly, her eyes finding his and she doesn’t even try to hide the water pooling in the corner of her eyes.

It breaks his heart.

“You and me.” He reaches for her small pale hand, threads their fingers together loosely and squeezes lightly while she lets her head lean gently against his shoulder. “Till the end of the line.”


	11. surprises

_I miss you._

Fallon stares down at the text message she sent off to her boyfriend six hours ago.

God, he hadn’t been answering her all day. It’d been radio silence since he called her to say goodnight the previous day. Which was so unlike him, he was always the first to reach out to her every morning with a call or a text, always replied to her almost right away every time. And yeah, she knows he’s probably just busy with work or catching up with friends from the area but she’s impatient and stubborn and she just misses his _voice_.

He’d been in Los Angeles for work for the past five days and she just misses _him_.

When did she become _that_ girl?

And they’d only been together six months, but the past five days have only proven to her how integrated he’s become in her life, how apart of her everyday routine he’d become.

She’s used to waking up curled up against the warmth of his body, him making her a cup of coffee just the way she likes it and bringing it to her in bed every morning, falling asleep to the steady and calming beat of his heart.

And then all of a sudden there’s three soft raps against her white wooden doors.

“I told you to leave me alone for the night, Sam.”

She’s met with silence, and she assumes he listens to her (for once) and leaves her be.

But there it is again.

Three soft repetitive raps against the hard surface.

“Go away, Sam. Or Kirby. Or whoever the hell you are.”

But the three knocks come back again almost immediately this time.

“Okay, you know what,” she breathes, slipping out under the comfort of her warm sheets, bare feet settling against the cold hardwood floors. “This better be damn important, Sam!”

But when she swings the door open, it’s not Sam she greeted with.

It’s her dirty-blonde haired boyfriend; eyes wide, suitcase behind him, grinning like he couldn’t be happier.

“Liam?”

“Hey, babe,” he smiles bigger and opens his arms for her - she graciously accepts and steps towards him.

“I thought you weren’t coming back until Saturday?”

Liam rubs circles on the small of her back and says, “I wanted to come home early and surprise you.”

“You know I hate surprises.” Even as she says it, she can’t deny this is a good surprise. Her head settles in the crook of his neck and it’s comforting to have his arms around her again. There’s just one other thing on her mind. “You didn’t answer my text.”


	12. it's always been you, fal

“Have you ever wanted anyone else while you’ve been with me?”

The question that she breathes out so quietly, in a tone that’s so full of uncertainty, takes him by complete storm. She was his _everything_ and he kind of hates himself for just assuming she _knew_. 

The random glimpse into her insecurities is a rarity; she’s strong, _so_ strong, and she hates to show those vulnerabilities even though he knows they’re there somewhere beneath the surface, but sometimes he forgets that they even exist because she’s _Fallon Carrington_ and she’s so put together but she’s not indestructible. 

She’d gotten better at it, letting him in through their time together, remembering when she muttered _then why does everyone I love abandon me_ to him one night, nearly breaking his heart in two when the tears flowed down her pale cheeks. It only projected him to just hold her a little closer that night, hold her just a little tighter - wanting to do everything in his absolute power to make sure she knew he wasn’t going anywhere, not that easily at least - he was in this for the long haul with her. 

“No, it’s just you.” he confirms, making sure to look directly into those blue orbs he loved so much, so she could feel the truth in his words, see the truth in his eyes. “It’s always been you, Fal.”


	13. i'll never love anyone more than i love you

The hot water splashes down on them from the stainless steel spout above, little raindrops dancing around them effortlessly against the dark tiled floor. His hands caress gently against her scalp, fingers weaving in and out of the brunette strands of her hair, lathering the rose scented shampoo into her locks with a tender massage. 

It brings her to such a calm, such a state of bliss, that she feels herself leaning back against his toned shoulders, feeling her eyes close sleepily against the warmth of his body. His chin rests lightly against her shoulder from her movements and she feels his breath hot against the side of her face.

“I love you,” he whispers quietly into her ear. His arms come down and wrap around her décolletage, keeping her close to his naked body and it only prompts her to relax further into his touch. Her head tilts to the side, blue eyes finding hazel in the steamy, heat filled shower. Her hands come up to grab onto his hands resting against her. “I’ll never love anyone more than I love you.”


	14. you are the love of my life

“I hear you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

But the slight break and rasp in his girlfriends’ voice says otherwise. And her skin-tone. God, she’s as pale as a ghost. He stands off in the doorway, watching her type vigorously away on her keyboard, eyes drooping closed ever so slightly, ever so slowly before she catches herself and the blue beneath her lids snap wide open.

His hands rest comfortably in the pockets of his brown leather jacket, leaning against the wooden doorframe. “Your assistant called me and told me you fell asleep during your morning meeting.”

“I fell asleep because they were boring me.”

“Right,” Liam plays along. He’ll humor her for a moment, if that’s what she wants. She won’t be winning this one though. He edges closer to the body behind the desk, fully stepping into the sunlit office. “And that they’ve tried to send you home three times, but you refuse.”

“Well,” the brunette shrugs. “I am the boss.”

“Dylan said you scared off the new intern when you threatened to shave her head.”

“So, what?” It’s the first time her eyes leave her screen to look at him, and all he can think of is how exhausted she looks. But still, there’s the slightest of smirks hiding beneath her tired eyes. “They called you in for reinforcement?”

“Well, you are the love of my life,” he says. She may be sick but he’s pretty impressed at how she doesn’t miss an eye roll at his comeback. “Maybe they thought you’d listen to me.”

“Yeah, right,” his girlfriend scoffs.

“Yeah, that’s what I told Dylan, too.” Liam pauses a moment, thoroughly amused with Fallon’s determination to prove she is not sick, as she types away and tries to fight her tired eyes that just keep trying to close. “But he insisted that I come down here and try to talk some sense into you.”

Her fingers leave the keyboard, body sinking back into the chair. “Well, lucky me.”

“I’d say so.”

“Look, I love you, I do,” she mutters, hands coming up to rest against his chest, pushing his body back from her, “but I have work to do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re done for the day.” Liam grabs her hands on his chest, pulling her up lightly from her swivel chair. “You’re gonna come home with me.”

“Are you trying to pick me up, Mr. Ridley?”

“Yeah, you got me.” He trails off when her head hits his shoulder and he can feel the heat radiating off her body. “My god, you’re so hot.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“No, Fal, you’re burning up.” Liam pushes her back just so, placing the palm of his hand on her forehead, cupping her face with both his hands, sure to look at her with direct eye contact. “Babe, you have a fever.” 

And just like that, in a split second, the facade she was putting on drops and she relaxes into him, head lolling on to his shoulder, arms snaking their way around his frame and curling in as close as she can to him. 

“I don’t feel good.”

“I know, babe.” Liam rubs his left hand gently up and down her back in a comforting manner, while his other is busy running his fingers through her long, silky hair. He doesn’t like how warm she feels, how she’s clearly worked so hard the past few weeks and made herself sick over it. “Will you please let me take you home now?“


	15. it's you. it's always been you.

“Tell me, Fallon,” he breathes out stepping closer to her, so close she can feel his breath tickling against the side of her face. “What is it that you want?”

Her whole body locks up, frozen in place when she feels his hand brush against her thigh. Everything inside her is screaming _run, run, run._ But she’s spent all this time running away from how she felt about him and it still landed her right back on his doorstep again.

Her eyes trail down towards his lips and she wonders what it would feel like for their lips to meet in the middle, moving slow and rhythmic against each others. Soft and warm and comforting, all their feelings bubbling right back up to the surface.

Maybe it’s time to stop lying to herself, maybe it’s time to push through all the fear consuming her and give in to what she’s known she’s always wanted.

But then that voice is back telling her to _run, run, run._

And then he’s looking at her, his hazel eyes soft and compassionate and full of warmth. There’s something about the way he’s looking at her that brings a sense of ease to her to worries, a sense of calm, and it makes her want to take that chance, take that risk and see how great they could be. 

_Run, run, run._

She pushes through the noise clouding her every thought, pushes through the fear, fuzzy and loud and grabs hold of his shoulders and pulls him towards her and covers his mouth with hers. His hand moves to cup her cheek almost on a reflex, lips moving against hers in an easy and steady and natural way.

It’s slow and gentle, warm and calming and the sparks are still right there, the same one’s she felt the night he first kissed her in that hallway. And when she pulls back, she can hear the _run, run, run_ echoing in corners of her mind. 

“You,” she mutters faintly, so soft it’s almost a whisper. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”


	16. you have me in a way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is probably slightly more on the mature side? Incase some of you weren’t okay with that stuff and wanted to skip this one. I don’t think it’s crazy detailed, but a heads up incase.

It all starts with a short, small, sweet kiss on the lips. 

They were about to have dinner with his mom and stepfather after all, something neither one of them were looking forward to all that much. It was just a tiny act of comfort, a simple peck on the lips to remember they were there for each other, they had each others backs through whatever hell his mother tried to put them through tonight. 

But it’s _them_ so it escalates quickly and before she knows it she’s swinging her right leg up and over the center console and straddling him in the drivers seat, wedged between his chest and the steering wheel without much thought of anything else other than the fact that she wants him _now._

Her lips move hungrily against his, and he’s quick to follow in her footsteps, their tongues fighting for control and a mess of hands tangled in each others hair and everything feels just _so_ good. But then everything comes to a halt when he pulls away, holding her at a safe distance so she literally cannot force herself back on him. Believe her, she tries. 

“We can’t have sex in a car.” 

“Sure we can.”  Fallon reaches down to tug on the edge of her shirt, wasting no time and pulling the thin fabric over her head in one swift motion, up and out of the equation before he can even question her on it. “And we will.”

“We’re literally parked in my moms’ driveway _.”_ It’s so _Liam_ to be concerned with the petty little details when she’s literally offering him sex. She keeps her lips on his face, peppering his jawline with soft little kisses and she grins in satisfaction when she hears him take a shuddering breath from her movements. “My mom could be _watching._ ”

“Shut up, Liam.”

And then her mouth is right back resuming her assault on his lips again, moving over to his cheek, his jawline and down to his neck, applying just a _little_ more pressure. “Have you ever done this in a car before?”

“No.” Her mouth leaves his, just for a brief moment, and she reaches her hands around her back to the latch of her bra, and she feels his hands covering hers to help unclasp the black piece of fabric. He’s successful in tossing the undergarment away and she hasn’t a clue where it could have possibly ended up. She doesn’t really have it in her to particularly care at the given moment. “I guess you could say you have me in a way no one else could ever have me.” 

His lips are quick to connect with the naked skin her bra was covering a moment ago and his hand runs down the curve of her back, soft and tingly, a domino affect, causing her body to arch in closer to his. And dammit it feels _so_ good, that she almost forgets that they need to hurry the hell up if they want to finish their activities before Laura Van Kirk starts looking out the window awaiting their inevitable arrival. 

“Alright, alright. Cool it with the foreplay,” she says, but it comes out breathless and she hates that he’s able to still have this affect on her. And he probably won’t let her live it down either. “For someone who’s so worried about being late, you sure don’t have a problem taking your sweet ass time.”

Her pale hands move down, down down, teasing and unforgiving, and she lifts her body up just slightly to give herself room to unbutton the clasp on his jeans. She somehow manages to get them out of her way. Sort of. But she deems it good enough.

“So,” the boy below her drawls out slowly while she works at tugging his boxers. “Come here often?”

“You know, you could help.”

And finally, his own hands move down and he lifts himself up, pulling down at the black cotton fabric just a few inches. She figures it’s enough room for her to do what needs to be done when she realizes _her_ pants are still glued to her body.

“Oh, son of a bitch.”

She tries her damned hardest to position hover body above his, in a way to allow herself to rid of the final article of clothing standing between them, but she underestimates the space between her and the top of the car, because in a matter of seconds her head is banging against the ceiling of the BMW and she’s falling backwards, landing right on the car horn, sending the loud and vibrating sound throughout the whole neighborhood. 

“We’re really dumb.” Her body falls against his, head burrowing in the crevice of his neck. “Like, really dumb.”

“Whatever it is you do next, just don’t turn around.”

“What? Why?” She tries to turn her head, but he cups her face with his hands and keeps her eyes on him.

“My mother might have just stepped onto the porch.”

“Of course she did.” And here she is - topless, straddling her son in the drivers seat of his car, his underwear half down his legs and both their heads of hair are most definitely a mess. There was no way Laura Van Kirk wasn’t going to figure out what they were up to. “At least she already hates me.”

“Dinner should be interesting tonight.”


	17. daddy really loves mommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely not the best at writing kids, but I did my best.

He watches in complete awe at the figure gliding down the grand staircase in their homes’ foyer, pink dress flowing around her effortlessly with each step she takes. High heels clicking against the hard tiled floor, everything turning silent the moment she stops before him.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he breaths, quietly, for her ears only and not to be picked up by the listening ears in the room over.  He hands her the bouquet of a dozen roses, deep and dark crimson in color. “Happy anniversary, Fal.”

“Wow,” Liam hears his dirty blonde five year old breathe out in complete astonishment. The tiny, little voice fills his heart with a joy he didn’t know was even possible before he came into the picture, now he can’t imagine his life without the little guy. “Daddy really loves Mommy.”

“Yeah, and your Mommy’s damn lucky she found someone willing to put up with all that crazy.”

Liam can’t help but smirk as Fallon’s small smile turns into a grim line across her face when the fourth voice in the room makes its presence known. The way her jaw tightens, annoyed and unamused, an obvious  attempt to keep whatever curse word she wants to spit out at bay. 

“I can hear everything your saying, Sam.” She turns her body and struts towards the source, the click click click of her heels bouncing off the walls in spacious living room as she makes her way to her son and his babysitter for the evening. “And how many times do I need to tell you to watch your language in front of my kid?”

And well, Liam’s pretty sure he can see the smoke flowing out of her ears when his five year old mutters the exact word his Uncle Sam just let out moments ago. 

“Damn!”


	18. i can't stop thinking about you

It’d been an…interesting night so far to say the least. 

You know for one, with her long lost brother showing up out of the blue. And her dad - who’d been attached at the hip with Adam, which was a weird dynamic and she was still trying to adjust to the whole thing, even if she didn’t agree with it all. And then with her sorta, kinda ex-husband showing up with his new girlfriend at this masquerade ball and everything. Tripping and stumbling on words to say to the pair of them, wondering why there’s this anxious feeling that builds in her upon seeing him.  

But, the evening somehow manages to get even weirder when Ashley Cunningham of all people comes up to her, eyes wide and panicked asking, “Have you seen Liam anywhere?”

“No, actually, I haven’t.” She had to admit she _had_ noticed his absence within the past hour. Not that she was watching him or looking out for him or anything like that. It was merely an observation. Anyone at the party would have noticed a specific individual missing among the hundreds of guests. At least, that’s what she tells herself. 

“Can you…help me look for him?”

“Look for him yourself,” she scoffs, swigging back another sip of champagne. But then the blonde is looking at her with these pleading eyes and for whatever reason she ends up agreeing to her request. “Ugh, fine.”

They start in the obvious places, the bar and the dance floor, the few surrounding rooms close to all the guests before meeting the blonde back in their starting place asking her, “Anything?”

“Nothing.”

She stands next to the short haired girl silently, uncomfortably. What do you say to the girl who’s dating the man you so desperately wish you were with? 

But suddenly it hits her when she remembers what his favorite room in the mansion used to be when they were married, well not _really_ married, and she quickly takes off down the hallway. She rounds the corner, Ashley just a few steps behind her when she spots him on the sofa, eyes closed and dozed off with the fire crackling in the corner of the room. 

He loved this room, it was always his favorite escape when things were a little crazy or he’d had a rough day back when he was living here. He’d put the fireplace on, sit on the sofa and open up one of those weird mystery novels he loved so much and read for hours beyond hours. 

He starts mumbling, coming slowly to consciousness, the words incoherent and unintelligible. But then one word comes out, crystal clear, sharp and cutting like a knife, and everything and everyone in the room seemingly comes to a halt.  

“Fallon.”

Her heart physically aches when she hears it, how badly she’s wanted to hear him say her name again, but then she looks to her left and notices the hurt, disappointment and absolute betrayal that flashes in the girls eyes when she takes a sharp intake of breath in. 

“Sorry, I guess I dozed off.” His eyes lazily open at the sound, slow and methodic, blinking away the blurry sleep that still lingered, finding focus on the figures in front of him. He reaches out for the blondes’ hand and it tugs at her heart strings that it’s not her he’s reaching for this time. He must notice Ashley’s facial expression, because he asks, “Wait, what’s wrong?”

Fallon watches Ashley, she can tell she wants to cry, can see the tears brewing in the corners of her eyes, the way her mouth hangs slightly open. But she blinks away the tears threatening to fall, walking off in the direction they both came from, leaving her alone with Liam, who’s so obviously dazed and confused as to what’s going on. 

“Ashley,” he calls out at the body moving farther and farther in distance away from them, but it doesn’t stop moving at the sound of her name, just disappears completely when she rounds the hallway corner, out of sight, out of mind. “What? Did I miss something?”

“You…” She trails off, pausing a moment, trying to figure out if what just happened was actually real. “You called out for me in your sleep.”

He doesn’t say anything, just rubs the lingering sleep from his eyes, sitting up and looking more alert than he did moments ago, looking everywhere in the room but at her and it’s driving her crazy because she can’t get a read on him or what he’s thinking. 

“Liam?”

And finally, _finally,_ he looks at her, eyes tired and hollow and it doesn’t make it any easier to see what he’s feeling. “What do you want me to say, Fallon?”

“Why you’re calling my name out in your sleep over your girlfriend’s would be a start.”

He takes a deep sigh, almost like he’s contemplating if he should say what he’s about to, and in a split second she second guesses herself, not sure if she wants to hear the answer to the question she just asked. She turns around, with all the intention in her to walk away, but his voice stops her in tracks, forcing her to turn right back around. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Fallon. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, the last thought I have before I go to sleep. I’m constantly wondering what you’re doing, _how_ you’re doing, hoping your okay.”

Her breath hitches in her throat. She wishes she could form the words, form a complete sentence, a complete _thought_. She wants to tell him she can’t stop thinking about him either, that she regrets how she handled everything and wants to go back and do it all over again and pick _him_ and not let her fear get in the way of them being happy. But she _can’t_ because no matter how badly she wants to not be scared of him, of _them,_ she can’t be because she’s _terrified_. 

“You’re _everywhere,_ ” he says running his hand through his hair. “And I wish I could just move on from you, but for some weird reason…I can’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to move on from me.”

She doesn’t know where _that_ response comes from but she doesn’t have time to process it before the words are out of her mouth and out in the open. And then their eyes lock, glued on each other and he’s looking at her like she’s the only person in the world that matters and she can actually feel the love radiating from him and the only thing she wants to do is kiss him.  

She’s not sure what it is, the intimacy of the moment? The absolute agony she’s felt for months from not being around him? The sheer terror at the possibility of losing him all over again? Maybe it’s a combination of all three, but whatever it is, she’s grateful her head has finally seemed to finally catch up with her heart. 

She leans forward and presses her lips against his. Soft, warm, sweet and gentle. He leans into it, his right hand coming up to cup her check to hold her close. She pulls away just a second later and her forehead rests gently against the warmth of his, when the reality of their situation really dawns on her and she moves her body away from him muttering, “Sorry. I’m sorry. You….you’re with Ashley. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” he mumbles quietly, turning her face back towards his. “Did you not listen to a word I just said? I thought it was pretty clear what I was trying to say.”

“What?”

“I’m still in love with you, Fallon.” His thumb strokes her cheek in the most compassionate gesture and she’s pretty sure no one’s ever looked at her like this before, with so much understanding and patience. “For some strange reason, I can’t stop being in love with you.”

“But what about your girlfriend?”

“I think she’s known all along how I really feel about you,” he says softly while she allows herself to slide a little closer to him. “I think she’s seen this coming for a while now.”

“Okay, but still. I can’t let anything happen here while she’s in the picture. No matter how much I dislike her, I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

“So, if I’m hearing you correctly,” his lips tug upwards, smirking. “That would mean you _want_ something to happen with us?”

She just rolls her eyes at his smug comment. “Yes, you idiot. Was that not clear when I followed you to Sun Valley?”

“No, it was, but,” his hand finds her against the sofa, tangling their fingers together loosely. “It’s nice to finally hear.”


	19. i thought i'd cook breakfast with the kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always post these on my tumblr first if anyone wants to find me over there. I'm [ladysantebellum.](http://www.ladysantebellum.tumblr.com) I'm on [twitter.](http://www.twitter.com/falcarringtons), too if you want to catch me there.

“Where’s the staff?”

Liam looks up at the women who just rounded the corner of their bright white kitchen. “I gave them the day off.”

“Why would you do that?” Her eyes narrow and her face scrunches up, head tilting ever so slightly to the left, just as it always does when she’s confused and trying to solve a problem. 

He shrugs, continuing his task at hand, whisking together dry ingredients in the bowl set in front of him. “I thought I’d cook breakfast with the kids.”

It’s low and dragged out when she drawls, “Why?”

“I _wanted_ to cook breakfast with the kids,” he reiterates, metal whisk clinking against the hard countertop as he places it down off to the side as his body saunters towards their refrigerator. 

“The staff would have done that.” She moves closer to the three other bodies in the center of the kitchen, her husband pulling out the carton of milk and returning to his previous stance. “That’s why we pay them, Liam.”

“Letting the staff make breakfast doesn’t allow me to make memories with our children,” he says, arms gesturing to the boy at his side and their daughter, distracted by her phone at their kitchen island. 

“Okay, but, I’m just saying…” But she can’t finish her sentence, not before her youngest son takes a handful of flour from the bowl resting on their quartz countertop and throws it in her direction, leaving her covered in the white dust. Her mouth hangs open and Liam’s pretty sure he can feel the anger actually building in the room. “What the —”

And he can see _exactly_ where that sentence is heading so he jumps in before she can finish her thought. “Language!”

Her mouth snaps shut in a grim line, eyes closed shut, trying to hold all the anger back that’s so clearly bubbling inside her. He watches his wife take a few deep breaths, before her eyes open once again, revealing that crystal clear blue clouded by a _very_ angry Fallon Carrington. He tries his best to keep his face as stoic as possible, holding back his laughs that she wouldn’t find as entertaining as he did. 

“Elliot, why would you do that to your mother?”

Their eldest daughter, Noah, pops up from her seat at the island, her eyes a deep ocean blue and full of attitude, a spitting image of mother in more ways than one. “Dad, you literally just told him to do it.”

Fallon only smirks, eyes turning in his direction, narrowing in on him and damn, he recognizes that look and if he wasn’t in for it before, he’s definitely in for it now. “Oh, did he now?”

“Why do you always take your mothers side, Noah?” He looks at the pair of them, mother and daughter, standing side to side. “I told you not to say anything.”

“Mom, he said ‘ _Do you want to get your mom going? It’ll be fun?’_ ”

“Well, then. Looks like daddy’s not getting any for the next six weeks.”

“Oh, c’mon, Fal. It’s all in good fun.”

“Oh, it’s all in good fun? Well, if it’s all in good fun.” She reaches out to the plastic turquoise bowl, full of flour and sugar and all it’s other contents, promptly dumping the entirety of it over his head. “You’re right. That was fun.” 

He tries to rid the bitter flour taste in his mouth, shaking his head free of the messy powder, wiping his eyelids free of the substance. “I guess I deserved that.”

“And since _you_ decided to send the staff home,” she drones lightly, eyes filled with much satisfaction over his current look. “Have fun cleaning this mess up while the kids and I go _out_ for a nice breakfast.” 

His kids perk up at the prospect of having breakfast out, an ensemble of yay’s darting out around him as they fly out of the room to ready themselves before Fallon can change her mind. 

“You’re not really going to leave me behind? Right?” He sees the suspicious glance in her eyes as she watches him, not saying a word, just leaving him dwelling in front of her as they stare at each other. She just shrugs, ever so simply, before turning her body around and walking out of the room. “Fallon? Fallon!”

 


	20. i can live without you, i just don't want to

Physically, she’s there with him. 

Mentally? She’s somewhere else completely. 

And it was weird because she _was_ fine. But she’s been in her head for the last ten minutes, pulling further and further away from him, drifting off into the land of her thoughts. Her responses became shorter and shorter, and now she’s down to only mumbling the ever telling _hmm_ or _mhm._ Eyes having trouble focusing on any one thing, losing sharpness and clarity with each passing second. 

And dammit, he can’t let this meeting go on any longer until he knows why she looks so incredibly sad and hurt and lost. 

“Fallon, hey, what’s wrong?” 

She looks up from all the paperwork in front of them, eyes locked on his when she says, “Nothing’s wrong.“

“C’mon, Fallon. Give me a little more credit,” he urges quietly, encouraging. “I think I know you better than that.”

“It’s fine,” she lets out a sigh, sounding absolutely defeated. “I’m fine.”

“It obviously isn’t fine.” His hand reaches across her desk, tentatively and unsure, covering her smaller one with his, squeezing gently. He lets out a silent breath of relief when she doesn’t pull away from his grasp. “Talk to me, Fal.”

Her mouth hangs open, waiting for words to spill out of her before she snaps it shut once more, backtracking once again. He can see the wheels spinning and spinning inside her, the way she goes back and forth, debating if she should say what she so clearly needs to, so clearly _wants_ to. He nods in her direction when she looks at him, trying to give her the encouragement she needs to talk to him, tell him what’s on her mind. He sees the moment she decides to go through with it, her eyes closing and her chest rising and falling in the same beat.   He’s not sure what he was expecting, something big, something to do with her family, but her next words almost stop him completely, his breath hitching in his chest when she finally opens her mouth to speak.  

“I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.”

“Fallon.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she rushes her words, her hand sliding out from under his so swiftly, he doesn’t have a chance to grab it again before she hides it under her desk in her lap. “I know you’re with Ashley and I won’t jeopardize that for you. I just…I thought you should know.”

“Fal,” he drawls slowly, quietly, looking at those blue eyes he adored so much with as much earnest as he could muster up, trying to convey how sincere his words were. “I’m not with Ashley anymore.”

Her head tilts just slightly to the left when she squeaks out a simple, “What?”

“We broke up,” he shrugs. 

“What?” She repeats the same question for a second time, and he doesn’t miss the puzzling look in her eyes that seems to trouble her. “Why?”

“She wasn’t you, Fallon.” 

The weight of his words seem to come crashing down upon her like a ton of bricks. He can see her fall right back into her trek of faltering, contemplating. She wants to say something, that much he can tell, but she’s unsure. The shift in their conversation has led far away from business and much into their personal lives in a matter of moments. 

“When I picture myself happy…it’s with you.”

He reaches his hand out for her and he’s grateful that she takes it this time with no hesitation. He tugs as her hand, pulling her up slowly and bringing them to the couch the resides in her office just those few feet in front of them. She sits beside him, their thighs touching just so, and he squeezes her hand once more, rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckle, their clasped hands resting atop his upper leg. 

 “I realized something,” he voices once they’ve settled against the soft cushions. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, keeping her hand securely wrapped in his, covering their joined hands with his free one, so she can’t wiggle her way out of his grasp if her fears get the best of her. “Remember when I told you there was a time I didn’t think I could live without you?”

“Yes.” It’s strong but sad and faltering; the memories of that night most likely flooding through her fast, but slow. The night she wished for things to go right between them, but went oh so wrong instead. 

“I realized I can live without you,” he says softly, kindly, full of warmth and color. He notices a singular strand of hair, stray and loose and dangling in front of her face, pulling a hand away to tuck it gently behind her ear. “I just don’t want to, ever.”

She looks down at their hands, head moving left to right. He uses his thumb to tilt her chin up in his direction, leaning in ever so slightly to press his lips softly against hers. Her eyes remain closed when he pulls back, making it hard for him to catch a read on her, follow her train of thoughts. 

“You deserve so much better than me, Liam.”

“See, that’s not true.” Her eyes perk up towards his. “No one is more worthy of anyone. That’s not how it works. I love you, Fallon. And you know you love me, too. There’s no _I think_ about it. And I’d just like a chance to show you how great we could be together. To show you how much I care about you, to be there for you when you need me. And even when you don’t need me. That is, if you’re willing to take that chance with me.”

She leans into him, head falling on to his shoulder and cushioning it between his neck and shoulder, adjusting their hands so their fingers weaved between each others loosely. She responds with only one word, one word that fills his entire being with a new found level of hope for the two of them; for the things they could do, the things they could be. 

“Okay.”


	21. dream a little dream

Her fingers dance along the edge of the ivory keys, effortlessly, like a ballerina floats across the stage. The sunsets glow flows in through their floor to ceiling windows, illuminating the room just perfectly. She’s already in her pajamas for the night and he loves that, loves that she’s been getting better at relaxing at an earlier hour without constantly having her face buried in emails and deep in work. And no matter how much he’s heard her sing, it still amazes him that that rich and rounded tone comes out of her. 

_Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  
_ _Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you  
_ _But in your dreams, whatever they be  
_ _Dream a little dream of me_

Her fingers hit the final chord, the sound resonating through their small study and he’s quick to make his appearance known when she pulls her fingers away from the keys. She turns suddenly at the sound of his clapping, his frame leaning against the white woodwork of the doorway. 

“Way to sneak up on me like that.” He makes the small stride towards her sitting against the wooden piano bench. “How long have you been there?”

“A while,” settles beside her. He presses a kiss to the side of her head, he can’t resist after being away from her all day, folding an arm around her and resting his hand against her shoulder. “I missed you, today.”

Her head falls against his shoulder easily and naturally. It’s a reflex, almost, to be as close to him as possible at all times. “I missed you, too.”

They’re quiet for a few moments, perfectly happy relishing in the comfortable silence in the comfort of each others arms and each others warmth before he breaks it. 

“I love when you play.”

Her head pops off his shoulder, leaning up to look him in the eyes. “Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re so talented. Not only are you insanely smart, you can play, you can sing.” Liam pops up a finger with each thing he counts, smiling off in her direction as he says, “I must be the luckiest man in the world to call you mine.”

She rolls her eyes at his comment, a classic reaction coming from her. “Is there ever a time when you’re _not_ trying to flirt with me?”

“What?” He feigns shock, arms flying up in a defensive manor in a lighthearted motion. “It was a compliment!”

“You were flirting.”

He only shrugs in response. “Teach me?”

She eyes him, hesitantly and unsure. Confused, even, at the nature of his question. “You want me to teach you to play the piano?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Okay,” she states, uncertainty laced in her tone, but she plays along with his request nonetheless. “But no singing. I’ve heard you sing and….it’s not good, babe.”

“You’re a little harsh sometimes, you know that?”


	22. moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little expansion on the end scene of 2x18/continuation. It was too cute to leave it alone, I needed to add to it.

He regrets telling her to talk with her mom the moment she steps back into his eyesight. 

The way her shoulders slump, the hollow and dull look in her eyes when her blue ones find his. The way the tears are pooling in the corner, but how she doesn’t dare let them fall, doesn’t dare let her mother get the best of the situation. 

He just knows what it feels like to walk away from your family - he’s done it and he’s regretted it; trying in the past year to work through the bonds he thought were severed forever. 

_She_ taught him that. That family was worth fighting for. 

But maybe the relationship with her mother is beyond repair, maybe there’s too many dents and bruises to fully heal it. 

She just walks over to his open arms, falling against him almost immediately; her head falling against his shoulder when he tightly wraps his arms around her lower back. He just lets her feel for a minute, lets her process it all in her time and take all the strength she needs from him. 

“C’mon,” he pulls back enough to reach for her small hand, pulling her to the fluffy sheets behind them. “Let’s go lay down.”

She just nods and allows him to pull her along with him. It surprises him, the way she doesn’t even try to take control of the situation, the way she kind of just gives in and lets him take the lead. His hand grabs hers and pulls her to the bed, letting her get comfy against him, his arm wrapped around her and holding her hand as tight as he possibly can. 

He hears the sniffles, sees the way she tries to hold herself together. God, he swears he can hear the thoughts running through her head. His head turns slightly to look down at her. Her eyes flutter closed and she almost looks content against him, despite the fact that he knows she’s hurting and can see the pain etched in her face, even if nobody else would have been able to tell. 

He’s only glad he can be there for her in this way. 

He leans down to press a kiss against the top of her head, breathing an “I love you,” into the silence that surrounds them. 

She turns her head against the warmth of his neck, tilting her head up towards him, her blue eyes piercing into his, filled with such hurt and sadness. He only wishes he could take it all away. He’d do anything to take it all away. He squeezes her hand, a gentle reminder that he’s there, he’s not going anywhere. 

“Stay with me?”

The fragile and broken voice that comes out of her when she asks nearly cracks his heart in pieces. The first and only three words she’s managed to muster up since returning from her mothers’ loft.  

As if she thought he could actually leave her here alone, like this nonetheless. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers softly, pressing his lips against the skin of her forehead, rubbing his thumb in small circles against her knuckles. 

He feels her lashes flutter against him, their hands still tangled together tightly when he finally, _finally_ feels her breathing slow and even out. 

He knows sleep won’t come easy, but he rests his cheek on the top her head, closing his eyes and tries drifting off to sleep with her sound asleep in his arms. 

* * *

 

She wakes up the next morning to find his arms wrapped tightly around her and their hands still tangled together. He’s looking down at her with the most concerned, loving and adoring glare and she’s positive no one’s ever looked at her with so much love and compassion in their eyes before.

“You stayed.”

“I told you I would.” He leans down to kiss her lips softly, a sensation she deems as all too welcoming. “How are you this morning? Feeling any better?”

She nestles herself into his embrace further, if that was even possible, happy to just stay in his arms for a little bit longer if it meant delaying the start to her day and the inevitable hurt that was bound to come. 

“Better that you’re here.”


	23. as long as you're there

He plays with the ring on her finger that he’d just slid on a mere hour ago, twisting is back and forth on her small hand, before they melted against her bed together and tangled themselves up in skin. 

“Where did you want to get married?”

She asks so simply, so naturally; it makes it feel like they’ve been engaged for longer than an hour. And when he stops to think about it - maybe they had been; he knew from the moment he met her she was the one he was meant to spend forever with. 

“Honestly? As long as you’re there, I don’t really care.” He answers her lightly, his hand rubbing up and down against her bare arm draped across his chest. “What about you?”

“You know,” her finger draws down his torso, cheek resting gently against his bare chest, the warmth of her pressed against him bringing him the familiar comfort he’s used to feeling when he’s with her. “It used to seem so important when I was a little girl.”

His fingers still against her before he slips out, “And now?”

“Now?” She tilts her head up to find his eyes in her room lit only by the sun’s setting light. “I just want to be with you.”

“The lake’s pretty nice,” he suggests, hand moving from her arm to her hair, running his fingers through the light brown locks. “And we’ve had a lot of nice memories there together.” 

“I like the lake,” she says, falling back against the heat of his body and curling in to him as much as she can. 

His fingers dance along her pale-skinned back, tracing random patterns and shapes. “Did we just decide on a location?”

“I think we did.”

“That was almost too easy,” he mumbles, pulling her closer to his side. “Alright, alright. _When_ were you thinking?”

“Summer.”

His eyebrows crease at her idea. “Summer?”

“Why? When were _you_ thinking?”

“December.”

Her laugh echoes throughout her bedroom and he’s absolutely convinced it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. “That’s absolutely not happening.”

“Fine. Okay,” he says, fingers threading through her straight hair once more. “Meet in the middle and we’ll do a fall wedding?”

She lifts herself up and rests her elbow against his chest to hold her body up and smirks up at him, “No.”

“We’re not even going to discuss this are we?” Fallon just leans forward, pressing her lips against his. “So, I guess we’re having a summer wedding?”

“A summer wedding sounds great, Liam. I’d love to get married in the summer.” She just falls flesh against him again and he presses a kiss against the crown of her head. “What a great idea.”

“Alright, I see how this process is going to go.”


	24. the morning after

He wakes up before her; he always did. It was one of the first things he’d noticed when they finally pushed that final wall down between them and confessed how they truly felt. He took a liking to spending the night with her right from the first night, a lot of that due to her mother’s ill timing and devious nature, but that was besides the point. He refused to let her hand go the whole night and they’d been sleeping side by side ever since. 

He’d always liked the closeness, loved when she was draped flesh against him, but Fallon preferred her space during the night. She’d stay close, of course, but she liked to sleep cooler without his body heat burning against her, as she so romantically put it.

But that wasn’t the case this morning.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in the sunlight beaming in through the cracks in her blinds before he noticed the girl wrapped around his form, hair splayed across his chest and her head resting against him like he was her own personal pillow. Her naked chest is pressed against his skin, hot and warm and comforting, her body curled into the crevice of his side. 

Her breathing is slow and even, the only way he knows she's still deep in her rest. Her mouth hangs open, only slightly, and he relishes in the way she looks completely at ease against him, the way she only seems completely free of her demons when she’s fast asleep in his arms.

He knows the moment she starts stirring and her breathing stops flowing in an equal pattern that’s she’s awake. He takes in the comfortable silence surrounding them, the feel of her hands dancing on his chest drawing familiar and unfamiliar shapes and patterns.

His hand finds her against him, stilling her movements against him and cupping his hand around her smaller one, bringing it up to press a tender kiss against the tops of her knuckles. He loves how he can feel her lips curve upwards into a smile against him, how she’s able to let her guard down with him and allow him to see the real her. 

Her voice breaks the silence, soft and barely above a whisper when she calls out his name, “Liam?”

His head falls against the top of hers, lips pursed against her hair when he mumbles in response, “Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He knew it was true, he knew she loved him. But he knew how hard it was for her to talk about how she felt, how it probably always would be to admit something so real and vulnerable out loud, even it was with him. But it still takes his breath away every time she found the strength in her to say it out loud, it probably always would. 

He only presses a kiss against the crown of her head, the feeling of breathing slowing and evening out against him once more, her eyes drifting closed and falling back into a restful sleep against him. 

He only closes his eyes when he feels her fall back into a peaceful slumber, every intention of letting himself fall back into a deep sleep with her once more, too. He’s just trying to figure out how he became the luckiest guy in the world to call this girl curled up in his arms his.


	25. ...what are we, fallon?

“Fallon.”

She can feel his breath against her neck, hot and warm, at the sudden closeness between the two of them. The way his eyes bore directly into hers, how she tries to avoid his gaze with everything in her, but how her eyes seem to always find themselves focused back on him; only him. The way he makes her so very nervous, but feel so very calm all at the same time. 

“We’ve been strangers, married, divorced, friends, fake married, we fell in love and walked away from that. We became strangers again and now…” he trails off, stepping just closer to her that her breath hitches in her throat at the sudden, even closer, proximity to him. 

The anxiety, the fear, the full year she’s spent running away from how she feels about this man in front of her, denying her true feelings and a true shot at happiness. And it’s all lead her to this moment and she can’t run away from it. Not anymore. 

“What are we, Fallon?”

I love you, flashes in bright red before her; everything inside her telling her to say it, push through the fear and take the chance. But she freezes, just like she always does, that same voice in her head coaxing her to let the anxieties win and she can’t figure out which voice is right. 

So, she settles for the only thing she can think of - she just presses her lips against his and hopes her actions speak louder, and that the words will come after.


	26. tell me...what?

He opens his front door after hearing the incessant and rapid knocks banging against it, only to have a swarm of brown hair sweep past him yelling, “What were you thinking?”

“Okay, sure, come on in,” he says, closing the door behind her and turning to face her fidgeting form. 

“Skydiving, Liam?”

His brows furrow at her words. “What?”

“You went skydiving.”

“I’m confused as to what we’re actually talking about right now.”

But then he swears he sees a fleck of hurt brewing in her eyes. Worry, actually, now that he takes a second glance at her. And were her eyes glossing over? Fallon Carrington couldn’t be standing before him worried about him with tears pooling in her eyes, could she?

“If something had happened to you without me getting the chance to tell you…”

“Tell me…what?” He edges her on, gentle, caring and soft, trying to encourage her to continue, to let her know he’s there to listen to whatever she needs to say. 

“Nothing.” She moves by him so quickly again, headed straight for the door and reaching for the metal knob. “Never mind.”

“Fallon,” he breaths. For whatever her reasoning is, she stops, turning right back around to face him. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I feel that you are very annoying.”

But, he doesn’t buy that. Not for a second. Not when she came to his apartment so late at night to confront him about something so miniscule. 

“Fallon.”

“It’s possible I might still feel….something….for you,” she mutters, unsure of herself when she tries to look everywhere but at him. His eyebrows just raise up, waiting for her to continue when her eyes trail back in on his again. “Some people might even go as far to say that I’m….in love with you.”

“Is that so?” He reaches his hand out hesitantly, letting her take her time, letting her move at her pace. It gives him some reassurance when she grabs it, her smaller hand settling right against his. “Well, that’s a relief. Since I love you, too, and all.”


	27. i can't keep kissing strangers

Her hands shake, fidgeting as she raises her knuckles up to knock against his apartment door. Her vision still blurry from the tears that’d fallen from the last thirty minutes or so - the scene vividly playing again and again, front and center in her mind. 

She breathes his name out as soon as she sees him appear in front of her, whole and unharmed; an instant relief. 

“Liam?” 

“Fallon?” He sounds disoriented, eyes squinting in front her, dressed only in his boxers and a white tank top. He rubs his eyes, shaking the sleep still lingering from his eyes. “It’s two in the morning. Is everything okay?”

“I…” But now that she’s here, now that she’s faced with actually telling him what’s going on, she feels stupid. Ridiculous, even. They weren’t even together, why would he even care why she was here?

“Fallon?”

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She doesn’t know what reaction she expects from him - silence wasn’t it though, and it’s exactly what she’s met with. His mouth just gaped slightly open, staring at her intently in shock. 

“I’m sorry,” she rushes her words out quickly, regretting her rash decision to come over here this late, already turning around to walk away from the situation. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come over.”

“Fallon, wait.” His hand reaches out and grabs at her wrist lightly, turning her around gently to face him again. She stops at that, but she remains silent, waiting for him to take the reigns on their conversation. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she says through the smile she tries to paint on her face, but it’s forced. She feels it and she knows he will, too. “Just go back to bed.”

“You coming over in the middle of the night suggests you’re not fine.” His voice is tired, but still so caring - just as he always was. “And I do worry about you. A lot, actually.”

Something tugs in her chest at that admission. Because he shouldn’t care, not after all she’s put him through and damn, she’d put him through hell. His eyes are zoned in on her and her alone and she tries to focus on anything but him, but her eyes only keep darting back to his, finding the comfort and safety in them she always seemed to find there. 

“You know you can talk to me right?”

She just eyes him, considering. She takes his words in and tries to rationalize, tries to talk herself out of talking to him but she comes right back around each time and when her eyes find his, full of understanding and the utmost of care, she finds herself nodding. 

“No,” she breathes the words out and feels an instant weight lifted off her shoulders. “No, I’m not okay.”

“Fallon,” his tone is sad and she hates when people take pity on her. But it suggests he knows exactly what she means, too - and that’s relieving, because rehashing this all out with him again wasn’t at the top of her priorities. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

“But I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me,” she sighs, tired and sad that they’ve been doing this dance for so long when they both knew deep down exactly what they wanted. “And I honestly can’t blame you. I can’t stand the sight of me either.”

He was always good at reading her, and tonight was no exception. He just tugs her into his chest, hands wrapped around her frame and clasped together loosely behind her back. She fights the closeness at first, fights against pushing herself closer until she feels his hands tighten against her, only then does she let her head fall against his shoulder. 

“I think I speak for the two of us when I say I know we’d both end up here like this again, Fal.” The warmth against his neck gives her an odd sort of comfort she’s not sure she’s ever felt before. “Together.”

She pulls back hesitantly to look at him, voice barely above a whisper when she says, “I’m still scared.”

“That’s okay. I’m scared, too.” His hands unlink from behind her, coming to the forefront to cup her face in his hands. “We can be scared together.”

He holds his hand out for her and she takes it without hesitation, letting him pull her into his apartment. He pulls her down the hall and into his bedroom, letting her get comfy against his sheets before he lies down beside her, tugging her into his chest.

It feels so natural, so easy. Like they’ve been doing this with each other the whole time. And in a way, maybe they had; they’d been tied together emotionally since they met, she knows that now. 

And when she wakes up in the morning still curled into his arms, the first thing she notices is how content she feels, how she wants this to be her every morning. And when she glances at the clock next to her to check the time she realizes how well rested she feels, how she feels like she actually slept a full night for once. But that’s when she realizes…

She didn’t have any nightmares with him beside her.


	28. you remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Including the prompt I received on tumblr incase this one isn't clear on it's own. I'm [ladysantebellum](https://ladysantebellum.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you ever want to catch me over there.
> 
> _Liam has suffered form memory loss and he doesn’t remember Fallon at all and then he has this moment with like tears in his eyes and crying because in that moment he remembers. Sorry for my bad English I love your fics ❤️_

“What? What is it?” She questions it the moment she see the tears in his eyes start forming, the way he’s just looking at her and she can’t read what it is. If he’s hurt, if he’s in pain. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” he trails off and she hangs on to his unspoken words, waiting for him to continue, a thousand different thoughts already racing in her mind. “I remember.”

She blinks, trying to process if she heard him correctly. “You remember?”

“We met outside city hall. We faked a marriage and a divorce. We fell in love.” He pauses and it gives her a moment to digest, not realizing she’d been holding her breath since he last spoke. He reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together and giving her the touch she’s craved for the last four weeks. “You told me you loved me.”

“I did. I do,” she nods anxiously at his words, afraid reality will come crashing down on her soon once more. “I do love you.”

And it’s him who pulls her in closer, lips pressing against hers in a fervent and passionate kiss, his arms weaving around her and her winding her smaller ones around his neck, afraid to let him go; afraid if she does let go she’ll wake up and find out it’s all been a dream, opening her eyes to the nightmare her life had become.

But she’s not asleep; she’s awake and it’s so very real. 

It’s him who pulls back, too, as soon as the tears had started rolling down her own cheeks. He holds her face in his hands, close to his own, not letting go, wiping away the salty liquid with his thumb, caressing her cheek with the softest and most delicate of touches.

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologizes quickly, words rushing out of her mouth before she can even allow herself to process anything. “It’s just…it’s been really hard without you.”

He just presses a kiss to her temple, pulling her in so she relaxes her head against his shoulder, tucking it in against the crevice of his neck, squeezing gently at her side to hold her as close as possible. She relaxes into his touch easily, second nature to them at this point, allowing herself to just feel a moment. To take in all his comfort and warmth she’s been missing for the last month, the only person she’s needed this affection from, but not being able to get it. 

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”


	29. don't give me space

He finds her in in the light pink painted room holding the small piece of white clothing tightly in her hand, looking out into their backyard from the round shaped window set in the corner of the room. 

She’s still in the clothes she’d been in since that fated night two days ago, when she woke him up at 2:38am (he’d never forget the time), tears pooling in her eyes when she said his name and shook him awake, breathy and heartbroken and shaken, how he immediately knew with just one look at her that something was really wrong. 

“It’s not your fault you know.”

He cuts through the silence, breaks her the train of thought visibly working their way down the tracks in her mind. She turns a touch toward his direction, allowing him a slight view of her face, and he swears he can still see the track of tears on her cheeks where they fell nights ago, even though he knows it’s all in his imagination. 

“Then how come it feels like it is?”

“This was just the way it was meant to happen for us.” 

He walks to the small wooden crib in the left corner of the room, resting both his hands against the dark grain, the one they’d spent so much time picking out. The one they wanted to be absolutely _perfect_ for their first born.

The one they wouldn’t get to use anymore. 

He watches her intently out of the corner of his eye, careful not to step into her personal space too quickly, not to tread too heavily. 

“There was nothing you or me or _anyone_ could have done to have changed that.”

“But _why?”_ Her remark shoots back at him quickly like a dagger and she turns her body around fully in his direction then, allowing him to finally see her full form, hoping he could finally get a read on her facial features. “Why me? Why _us?_ ”

“Sometimes things just happen,” he says slipping his hands into the respective pockets of his dark jeans, keeping his distance so she knows there’s no pressure for her to talk. “Sometimes there isn’t a reason.”

She stays quiet while looking at him, almost as if she’s contemplating his words. The blue in her eyes that’s always so bright and full of life looks dull and hollow, like she’s a million miles away from the present moment, a million miles away from their conversation. She just turns around from him once more, glaring out the window at the rainy skies above, gloomy and sullen, perfectly matching both their moods. 

He takes it as a small hint that she wants to be alone, wants the left alone in the silence of her thoughts; process the last forty-eight hours in the comfortableness of her own self.  

“Is there anything I can do for you, Fal? Anything I can get you?”

She only silent shakes her head just so, barely making any movement to her current position, her naturally wavy hair not even moving with the sudden shift. He pivots his feet against the floor, turning around and starting to take his first step out towards the hall when she stops him, desperation and sadness laced all throughout her words. 

“Liam.”

He takes one look at the tears silently streaming down her face and he instantly wishes he could take away all the pain she’s feeling, take away all the pain _he’s_ feeling; take away all the heartbreak they’d be forced to suffer through with the loss of their daughter and erase the last two days completely. He wishes he could go back to when they were blissfully happy and excited at their upcoming unknowns; when they were unaware that it was about to all go oh so wrong. 

But he can’t and he knows that and it breaks his heart all over again. 

“Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want with you.”

Her voice falters towards the end of her sentence, cracking with the sadness of the heaviness of their situation. He sees more tears pool in her usually bright blue eyes, shoulders slumping in absolute defeat. He changes direction, walking towards her and pulling her small body right against his.

“It’s okay,” he soothes her. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

She tucks her head against his shoulder, burying her face again him and hiding herself from the rest of the world, as if he could she shield her from all the bad things in life and he swears if he could he _would._

She pulls back a moment later, just enough so she can look up at him, water pooling in her eyes and falling from the corner of her iris’. He cups the side of her face with both hands, keeping her close and in his grip so she can’t run away from him, run away from everything that’s transpired. He pulls her face in and presses a gentle and lingering kiss against the top of her head. 

“I’m here for you, okay? Always.”

“I’m here for you, too,” she mutters so quietly it’s almost inaudible. She leans into his arms again, tucking her head against his neck. “We both lost her. You don’t have to be so strong for me.”

“We’re gonna get through this, alright?”

He pulls her as close as he can to his body, holding the back of her head and running his fingers though her hair. His eyes are only able to focus on the little pink blanket folded up perfectly laying against the back of the white rocking chair while she sobs against the crevice of his neck. The white font stitched perfectly is staring right back at him, his wife curled into his embrace and haunting him forever at what could have been. 

_Avery._

“Together.” 


	30. i can't stand the thought of losing you

“It’s just,” she starts, a sadness looming in her eyes as she trails off with her words before her eyes finally lift up to find his, pools of water threatening to fall any second. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

Her fragile voice finds strength; the rare glimpse into her vulnerabilities a reminder to him that her fearless and unbreakable persona was just that, as he curls his hand around hers, twining their fingers together and gripping tightly against her pale skin. 

_I’m here,_ he tries to convey through his gentle touch, _I’m not going anywhere._

Her smaller hand squeezes back as hard as she can and he wonders if she even meant to let the words be said aloud, wonders if she meant to keep it bottled up inside her like she always does, even though he’s constantly reminding her that she doesn’t have to do that with him - he’s not like everyone else and he’s not going to just _leave._

She leans into his side, the warmth of her forehead hitting the crevice of his neck, instantly filling him with so much love and adoration for her; how strong she was, how she fought through all life’s obstacles and still got herself through it each and every time. 

Her head lolls onto his shoulder and he presses his lips tenderly against her forehead in a lingering kiss. His thumb rubs gently against the base of her knuckles as he feels her relax into his side, pushing herself as closely to his body as she can. 

“You won’t.”


	31. i let you go

The sun shimmers through the small cracks of the frosted windows, golden rays lighting _just_ enough of the room for them to know it’s well into the morning, but dark enough for them to stay wrapped up in each others arms and take in all the warmth they can from the other, before they stumble out of bed and allow the crisp, cool air to touch their bare skin. 

She presses her back against his torso, his arm looping over her side lethargically, keeping her form as close to him as possible. Her hand finds his in the dimly lit room, lacing their fingers together loosely against the bright white sheets; content to have him here with her and being wrapped up in his arms. 

And for some weird reason her mind wanders away from her, trying to let her picture what life would be like if she _didn’t_ tell this boy how she felt about him, if she hid behind the wall she built up _so_ high over time; if she didn’t have his love and support to lean on everyday, to always have someone to turn to who loved her so deeply, so fully; someone that’d have her back through thick and thin. 

Through _anything._

She tightens her grip on his hand, allowing herself to take a deep breath; relishing in the mere fact that she didn’t have to imagine what that world would be like. He was right _here_ and he always would be; she knew that he wouldn’t give up on her for any reason. 

He shifts slightly when her body sighs, lips pressing against her soft brown curls, “Everything okay?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything,” he mumbles against her hair, hand squeezing her small one tightly; a small gesture for her to know he’s listening to every word she breaths out to him. “I’m here for you, always.”

Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit; it probably would never be. But she’s better at it with Liam, he never judges her or makes her feel inferior or _weak -_ something she always grew up believing; that showing emotions, that allowing yourself to be human, made you less strong than you actually were. 

Liam taught her otherwise - that being human, allowing yourself to _feel_ didn’t make you weak at all. 

It made you stronger. 

“I let you go and it was the biggest mistake in my whole life.” Her fingers play with his, curling and uncurling her hand from his grasp. “Now, I know I can’t live without you.”

There’s such a heaviness that falls over her after she shares this with him, just like the heaviness falls over her every time she says something so deeply personal. That hazy cloud of fear falls over her like fog on a humid morning, coating every ounce of her mind with fear and anxiety.

Even it was just Liam she was sharing this with, who loved her and adored her and would stick by her side no matter what, who wouldn’t judge her opinions or actions or words; who’d still kiss her forehead every night before her eyes got heavy and fluttered shut. 

He turns her body around so they’re face to face, eyes meeting in the middle; tucking a piece of lose hair away from her face. His fingers weave themselves into her hair, cupping the side of her face and leaning himself down to press his lips against hers. 

“I mean, I know I _could,”_ she says inches fro his face when she pulls away. “I’d just rather not have to find out what that’s like.”

“You don’t have to think about what it’d be like,” he says, pulling her body in close to his; she rests her head against his chest, comfortably resting her head under his chin. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	32. have you lost your damn mind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little missing scene from 2x20, because they couldn't just imply it and then leave us all hanging!

Her lips attach to his as soon as the door to the owner’s box latches shut behind them, hungrily and aggressively; her hands roam all over his frontside, her fingers rubbing against the soft fabric of his black suit, up and down and down and up, desperate to get the dark jacket off of him and feel his bare skin against her fingertips. 

She’s barely aware of their surroundings, eyes closed shut and her body pressed flush against his, pushing him back with her until they hit a solid surface. Her fingers trail down his shirt, unbuttoning each button one by one until they’re all unfastened. Then, and only then does she open her eyes to push the shirt over his shoulders, tossing it aside; out of side, out of mind. 

Her breathing is already shallow and heavy as he works his magic on her pink blazer, discarding it off to the side somewhere, leaving her clad in only her nude shaded bra. He spins her around, pushing her back up against the hard counter, hand weaving in between the strands of her hair before lifting her up just enough to set her atop the small counter. Her legs latch together as they wind behind his back and she’s quick to eagerly cover her mouth with his once more. 

His fingers dance down her bare side, her skin tingling with warmth and excitement; his tongue slides into her mouth tangling with hers. When he pulls away he trails his kisses down her neck, to her chest and back up to her neck again, sucking slightly at the base, teeth grazing the surface of her soft pale skin.  He’s just moved his lips back to cover her mouth, her hands tangling themselves against the nape of his neck when she’s stopped frozen in her tracks at the sound of her name being called out behind them.

“Fallon.” 

She’s so caught up in the moment, so distracted by his lips on her mouth and her neck and her bare skin that she doesn’t even so much hear the door behind them swing open. Her eyes snap open, lips detaching from Liam’s already slightly swollen one’s and finds her father of all people standing before them, embarrassment and disgust so completely evident on his face. The fact that he’s just walked in on his half naked daughter and her half naked boyfriend, with three other important (she assume’s) men trailing just slightly behind him, there to witness it all. 

“Daddy.” 

His eyes shift from her to the boy still locked between her legs, she tries her best to cover up her chest, moving Liam in front of her to block the view of the door, so random strangers working with or for her father _can’t_ see her half naked body sprawled out before them.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Blake only scoffs in their direction, leaning down to pull Liam’s shirt up from the floor, angrily tossing it in their direction. “Put your damn clothes back on. Both of you.”

The door slams shut in front of them, so loud it causes both of them to flinch. They both look in each other’s direction, unable to stop themselves from laughing; both from amusement _and_ embarrassment. Her face falls into his shoulder for a second before she leans back up and their eyes meet. 

“I thought you locked the door!”

 


	33. i might never get another chance to say this

He sees her face fall the moment the words fall out of her father’s mouth, but the older Carrington doesn’t even appear to show any sign of regret for letting it slip off his tongue, he just stands there stoically, watching his _only_ daughter in front of him, holding back the tears he can see welling in the corner of her eyes. Liam reaches out for her hand but she spins around from him before she notices and storms off, the manor’s front door slamming shut in the near distance.

“Thanks, Blake. Really,” he mutters angrily at his soon-to-be father-in-law, turning himself around to head in the direction of his fiancée and take her far away from this place. “I’m gonna go pick up the pieces again because of you and make sure she’s alright.”

Liam turns from the older man, only making it to the wooden doors of his office before he gets the nerve to say something else, the thought of Fallon walking away just moments ago with such absolute hurt and betrayal painted on her face - he’s seen it before and he doesn’t ever want to have to see it again.  

“You know, I might never get another chance to say this,” he says turning to face Blake once more and Liam _hates_ that he seems to still be completely unbothered by everything. “Because I’m sure as hell not letting her come over here anymore.”

“And we’ll see how long that lasts.”

“The only thing your daughter has ever wanted from you was to be accepted and _loved.”_

Blake Carrington just stands before him, utterly and completely silent, leaning back against his wooden desk, arms folded across his chest, finding Liam’s words seemingly amusing with that smirk etched on his face. God, Blake’s arrogance knew no end. Liam meanders towards the door, his words getting nowhere, ready to just make sure Fallon was alright, make sure that she wasn’t sitting in his car crying over her father who so clearly did not care about her in the way she needed him to.

He just lets one phrase leave his lips before leaving through the mansion’s double doors:

“It’s sad that you can’t —  _won’t_  even do that for your own daughter.”


	34. you've got forever

Her back presses into his chest tightly, his chin resting gently on her shoulder and their hands are weaved together in front of her and set atop her stomach, her feet digging into the warm sand beneath their feet. They’re watching the sun set before them against the pink and orange and yellow horizon, the ocean waves crashing at the shore softly before them. 

She’d changed from her extravagant white gown into a more comfortable sundress a while ago already, Liam ditched his jacket and button down for a plain white tank top - much easier attire for both of them to actually enjoy the party in. 

She can hear the sounds of of their families and guests still partying behind them, the DJ still going strong with a selection of some ‘Cotton Eyed Joe;’ she’s glad she’s missing out on that particular song.  

She twists the silver band on his finger, the band identical to hers, silently thankful that they finally made it to this moment. She loves the way it shimmers in the glowing sun, the way it signifies how he’s _hers_ for eternity. 

And it’s crazy to think how just one year ago she was holding his hand in the hospital, hanging on for dear life, wondering if he was even going to survive his injuries - and today he’s here holding on tightly to _her_ hand and after all of that he’s her _husband._

“Stop.”

She tilts her head to the side a bit at the sound of his voice, asking, “Stop what?”

“I can literally hear your thoughts,” His hands rub up and down her arms. “Don’t do that to yourself. I’m _fine_ and I’m right here. With _you_.”

“I know that,” she says, allowing herself to sink further into him. “I know. It’s just really scary to think about what it’d be like if you _weren’t_ here.”

“But I _am._ ” he curls his hands around her small ones and she takes such comfort in the way he plays with the wedding band on her ring finger. “You don’t need to think about that.”

She tilts her head to give herself the room she needs to press her lips against his, trying to will any negative thought threatening to ruin their night away. Liam was here, he was right there with her and they were _married._ Really married, too, at that - not just for some stupid scheme with a stupid contract this time. 

Real marriage rooted in _love_ and adoration and trust and honor.

“Do you think they’d notice if we skipped out on the party and just went straight to our room?”

“I think they’d be a little upset if the bride and groom skipped out on their own wedding, yes. Besides,” he says, hand reaching for hers as they stand, starting to make their way towards all the noise and all the lights. “You’ve got forever to spend with me.”


	35. glitter on the floor

Black and white and gold balloons float up to the ceiling dancing in the vast space above, the sound of another champagne bottle popping open is distinguishable against the noise of the guests, the bands jazz instruments are loud and clear throughout the entirety of the ballroom as she meanders her way through the crowd in search of him.

But then she sees _him_ , in full color against the rest of the world painted in black and white. 

He’s chatting with a few of the guests when he notices her watching him, almost like he feels her presence as soon as it’s there; he excuses himself from his current conversation and lets his feet glide towards her, pulling her hands into his as soon as he’s close enough to touch her.

And just like that, in a room full of people, they’re the only two there.

“Hey,” she says in barely a whisper, while he presses his lips against her left cheek. “I’ve been wondering where you went off to.”

“I was just about to come and find you,” he says. “It’s around five minutes ‘till midnight.”

There’s a knowing between them, a silent agreement to escape the crowd for the end of the evening, to ring in the new year with just the two of them, not surrounded by the endless people who’d shown up to the Carrington event that took place year after year. 

Her hand slides down into his tightly, weaving their fingers together as they both sneak outside into the manors backyard, trailing down the extravagant steps and claiming one of the benches below as their own. 

He slips his jacket over her shoulders, the winter air crisp and cool against her bare skin. Her head falls against his shoulder, his arm looping behind her and rubbing against her upper arm with his thumb in the calmest of motions. The sky is crystal clear above them, stars sparkling brightly against the dark sky, full moon gleaming and radiating just to the north of them.

“It’s been a pretty wild year.”

She can feel him scoff beneath her head quietly while he mutters, “Tell me about it.”

She breathes, inhale, exhale, before she slips the vulnerability off her tongue. “I’m glad it’s ending here - with you.”

“Me too.” She feels his lips press against the top of her head, the way he always seems to know when she needs his touch is comforting to her; how he always knew what she needed, exactly when she needed it. “Any resolutions for next year?”

“Not really,” she shrugs against his warmth. “Any for you?”

“To do everything in my power to make sure I’m spending this exact moment with you come next year.”

It warms her to hear him say it, to be filled with this absolute feeling of hope that he was going to stick by her side no matter what for the next year, for eternity she’s pretty sure; that he wanted to be by her side as much as she wanted to be by his, that they were both in this for the long haul. 

The sound of the bands’ instruments start to quiet down before she can’t hear the brass instruments anymore from behind her, the crowd’s chatter almost sizzling down to a complete silence when she starts to hear the inevitable countdown winding down from inside - ten seconds ‘till midnight.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he replies softly, hand laced loosely with hers, squeezing gently against her pale skin. She lifts her head from his shoulders, finding his eyes in the pitch black night. “I love you, too.”

She hears the final digit being screamed aloud, followed by the cheers and the voluminous ‘H _appy New Year!’_ chants filling the space around them. She leans her head in towards his,, smiling into the kiss when his lips meet hers in the middle, melting into each other against all the static and noise coming from inside the house. It’s slow and sweet but full of promises for the year to come. 

When he pulls away, he tucks a loose piece of hair dangling in front of her face behind her ears, muttering the simplest of phrases, “Happy New Year, Fal.”


	36. wedding vows

“And we’ve now arrived at the exchanging of the vows.”

It’s weird hearing the officiator say those words, it’s weird that they finally made it _here -_ to this moment, after everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve survived. _Together_. He reaches across the space between them, her smaller hands fitting perfectly against his own; it’s _calming,_ to know she’s holding her whole world in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, Fal,” he flashes her that small crooked smile, only one side of his lip curving upwards; just like it always did when she told one of her stupid jokes or called him out for staring at her too long. “Where do I even begin?

“You aren’t exactly the type of girl I saw myself falling for. I just knew that I really wanted to kiss you that night outside city hall when we first met,” his eyes wander down to their linked hands, before they wander back up and bore right back into hers with such intensity, such passion. “But then the more time I spent with you, the harder it became to imagine not having you by my side.

“You are an enigma. You are the strongest and the bravest person I know. And you inspire me each and everyday to give my all with everything I do, the same way you so wholeheartedly throw yourself into everything you do. 

“I love you,” he breaths, the words she hears so frequently rolling off his tongue, but holding an entirely new weight in this moment, an entirely new meaning. “And I promise to love you more each day than I did the day before and less today than I will tomorrow. 

“I cannot wait to see what forever has in store for us and I’m so thankful it’s you who’ll be by my side though it all.”

And then it’s suddenly her turn. 

“Liam,” she breathes softly to the full room of guests, but only to him all at the same time. “I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d find someone who so unconditionally loved me for me. 

“But then I met you. And suddenly all the things people hated me for, all the things people looked down on me for, were things that you loved about me, admired about me. And it’s crazy to think that something that started out as only for pretend, started to turn real very, very quickly.”

Being so open, so vulnerable about how she feels about this man before her, in a room full of friends, family and strangers is daunting. _Terrifying_. Talking about their very real and personal love before all these people - it makes her want to close up on the spot and only tell _him_ these things. Because her words are only for _him_ and she’d prefer to not let their guests into their little world. But then he squeezes her hands resting in the palm of his hands and it gives her all the strength she needs to continue.  

“I closed myself off from letting myself be happy with someone for years out of fear of getting my heart broken. But then you come along, tearing all my walls down with so much force, refusing to let me be build them back up again. You terrified me, Liam. Because I loved you so deeply and I didn’t know how to let myself lose control of the situation, how to let myself jump in and take a chance on someone, on _you._ But I’m so happy I did. 

“I love you more than I thought I was capable of loving someone. You have been so patient, so kind, and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone but you. Thank you, for opening my eyes to what I’d been missing. You’ve been the the best gift I’ve ever received and I am thrilled to know I’m going to have you by my side through everything that comes our way.”


	37. come over here and make me

The hot August sun sinks into her pale skin, Stevie Nick’s voice blares through her bluetooth speakers set off the to the side of her, the sounds of water splashing around from her boyfriend swimming in the pool fill the empty space in the Carrington backyard. 

She relishes in the warmth, the way the heat feels against her bare skin; the sun just feels different in the summer, bolder and stronger. More intense. There’s a brief pause in the music as it stops completely, before it starts spilling a new song out of the speakers - Cat Stevens, this time. 

But then she feels it, the string of water drops on her legs from the only culprit in the pool. 

“Liam, I swear to god,” she groans. She stays put in her comfortable position, refusing to give him the satisfaction and look at him, but she can just _sense_ that stupid smirk of his plastered across his face at her choice of words. 

“Come join me for a swim.”

She pushes her sunglasses up over her eyes to get a good glimpse of him then, he’s in the center of the large pool, before immediately pushing the frames back over her eyes and slouching back against her favorite lounge chair. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“C’mon, Fal,” he says, the little drops of water making the distance to her once more, landing against her warm skin. “Afraid you’re gonna melt?”

“That’s cute,” she says as her eyes flutter shut beneath her favorite shades, letting herself absorb the heat of the summer air, doing her best to ignore his _very_ persistent efforts. “Keep it up, babe. That’ll get me in the water for sure.” 

She hears it in the way the water ripples in the pool that he’s inching closer to the edge near her, the way his voice echoes around her when he speaks again indicates that he’s reached the deep end of the pool. 

“I’d really love if you came for a swim with me.”

She pushes her body up from the back of the chair to sit up, hand moving to raise her aviators to rest at the top of her head. When she opens her eyes, she finds him resting his arms against the cement, hanging on to the the edge of the pool closest to her. He flashes his best puppy dog eyes flashing in her direction, but she’s not persuaded by that, no, it’s only in the way that the water drips from his chest that stirs something in her.

“Come over here and make me.”

He pushes himself up from the pools’ edge, the little droplets dripping down his chest as he makes his way towards her. He pushes his wet hair away from his face and _dammit,_ she thinks, because dear god, he really does look good and it’s _very, very distracting._

He sits on the edge of her lounge chair, hands resting comfortably on her upper thighs, squeezing gently; he leans in with her, meeting her halfway to the center and pressing his lips flesh against her own. Her hands rest against his bare chest, his skin cool against the warmth of hers. Her mouth opens at the feel of his mouth against hers, his tongue sliding in and tangling with hers as soon as she gives him access. She allows her hands to move up and weave around the back of his neck, putting more pressure against his mouth, deepening the kiss between them. She feels one of his hands cup the back of her head, his other resting against her knee. His teeth drag against her lower lip biting gently and he applies more pressure against her mouth when he catches her upper lip between his lips.

But then she feels his arm slide down her back, his other hand slide under her legs, and suddenly she’s being lifted up from her chair,

“Liam, no,” she warns. “Liam, don’t you dare.”

He cradles her against his chest as he walks towards the shallow end of the body of water, his feet dipping in and sinking against the first step, the second step, the third step, until her feet hit the cooler temperature of the water.

“Liam, I swear to god, if you pull me in this water any further.”

But he ignores her, pulling her body deeper and deeper into the in-ground pool, careful to bring her in _just_ deep enough so her toes can’t touch the bottom. 

“Okay, you’ve had your fun,” she says, her arms still weaved around his neck for support. “Can I go now?”

He raises his eyebrows at her, muttering, “Ready to go under?”

“Liam, no. I just did my hair!”

“Ready? Hold your breath! One, two, three.”

And then she’s being pulled beneath the surface, covering her body from head to toe in the chlorine-filled water. She feels his grasp loosen on her and she immediately pulls her body up to the surface.

“Asshole,” she scathes, using as much force as she can to splash water on him for a change. “Good luck getting any from me tonight.”


	38. you'll end up breaking your own heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers to Season 3.

He runs her red brush through her wet hair, untangling the knots from her long tresses like he does every time she steps out of her steamy shower. Little drops of water escape from the ends of her brunette strands, collectively absorbed by the towel set upon her bed. 

It’s these moments he loves with her best; alone and quiet, the way both their walls are down and their completely at ease just being themselves with each other. 

But then her shoulders fall forward in on herself, defeated; a response he knew all too well by now. The way she kind of just falls into herself, falls into the trap of her head when she can’t let the harrowing thoughts running through her mind escape her, when she won’t let him in on the thoughts that are plaguing her like she usually will.

Which is when he realizes exactly what it is she’s working herself up over. 

“Fallon,” he sighs lightly, placing the brush on her nightstand with such precision, careful with it to make sure it makes only the smallest of sounds. 

She tilts her head back to catch his eyes, “Hmm?”

“It’s okay, you know,” he pulls his hand up to cup the side of her face, thumb caressing her cheek as soon as it touches her skin. “Everything turned out alright.”

“But it’s not okay, Liam.” Her voice hits with such sharpness, an edge to it that tells him she doesn’t quite know how to deal with everything that’s happened, despite them being very much _together_ in this exact moment. That it’s still haunting her, that even just the mere thought, the mere possibility that she could have lost him is something she’s still struggling with. “You could have died. You…forgot everything about me. About _us._ ”

“Hey, hey,” he pulls her in against him, her head fitting into the crevice of his neck perfectly, almost like they were made just for the other. Her wet hair sticks against the warmth of his skin, but it doesn’t stop him from running his fingers through it. “I’m right here, babe. I’m right here.”

“It’s just every time I close my eyes,” she reaches up with her hand to grab hold of his arm, a response he recognizes as _please don’t leave,_ before he hears her speak up again to finish her thought. “I see you in that hospital bed….unconscious.”

“Fal.”

“And then all I hear in my head over and over again is you asking me who I am and I start to spiral and wonder where would I be right now if you didn’t remember and…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he pulls her closer, holds her head even higher against his form. “Stop thinking so much, you’ll end up breaking your own heart.”


	39. i'm better when i'm with you

She lays awake from the comfort of her sheets, tossing and turning in the pitch black darkness of the middle of the night; the only light illuminating the space is the dim brightness of her phone screen. The bed feels cold and empty without his arms wrapped around her frame, despite it being the middle of summer, despite the temperatures being well into the upper seventies even at this late hour. 

It’s hard to fall asleep without him, hard to feel at ease without seeing the rise and fall of his chest beside her; the mere presence of him near her gave her a sense of warmth and security sh didn’t know was possible. And it was _impossible_ to keep her mind at bay, a challenge to keep the thoughts in her head from spiraling knowing he’s _not_ here with her, knowing he’s across town in a hospital bed with absolutely no recollection of her or anything they’d been through together. 

Despite her better judgement, she finds herself scrolling through her photos and it makes the rims of her eyes burn with tears threatening to fall, so many of her recent images of _them. Happy_ and smiling, their love so very clear in the way they looked at one another. 

The last photo in her camera roll was from the day of their engagement - the two of them still riding the high of their time on the lake, that he’d said _yes_ and she never had to worry about being without him again, that she’d always have his love to lean on. 

It’s ironic how that all ended up working out. 

She closes that app, a dull ache in her chest from thinking how fiercely wrong everything had turned in such a short time. Four days ago she was _happy_ and thought she had everything she thought she’d ever need; now it feels like she has nothing, like she’s all alone once again. 

She opens her messages app next to look at the last text her sent her, because of course the last text he sent to her was I _love you._ Because _of_ _course_ it was, he was always making sure she knew that, always making sure she never doubted his love and his loyalty to her. 

It makes her heart _ache_ with how much she misses him, how desperately she wants him to tell her that he loves her right in this very moment. 

She clicks in the blank white bubble, the blank cursor blinking in front of her in the empty text box, before her fingers curl around her phone and her thumbs start moving against the touch-screen keyboard. 

_I know you don’t remember me but_

She watches the cursor at the end of her text blink repeatedly, appearing and disappearing right before her eyes, before her thumb hovers over the backspace and immediately deletes everything she just typed. 

She tries again, fingers moving quickly against her phone in the dark room.

_I love you and I just really miss you._

She deletes that just as quickly. 

_It’s just…I’m better when I’m with you. I don’t want to be me without you._

She stares at the words she just typed, realizing just how intertwined their lives had become over the past year; how much she relies on him, how much she’d changed with his influence. She’s a better person with him; she doesn’t want to go back to who she was before him, she likes who she is _now._

She ends up erasing everything she’d just typed, despite how badly she wanted to send it all; how much she wishes these stupid little messages would jog his memory. But it wouldn’t. It’d only overwhelm him more and she didn’t want that, no matter how much it hurt. 

She tosses her phone to the side, curling up against her pillow wishing it was just as warm as his body was next to hers, longing for a feeling she hopes she won’t have to forget. 

* * *

The consistent beeps of monitors and machines, the constant flow or nurses walking in and out of his room, keeps him awake well into the night despite his best efforts to ignore the vast array of sounds. The bright lights lining the hallway aren’t helpful either, nor are the nurses on their shift for the night, talking and laughing with each other from the nurses station just around the corner. 

He finds himself picking up his phone off the small table to his left to try to distract him from everything; and maybe there’s a slight glimmer of hope inside of him that looking around on it will spark something within the void of his memory. 

He starts with the pictures saved onto the device, the most recent ones taken are of _him_ and _Fallon_ and of _him and Fallon_ and they look…happy and content. And it’s weird to stare at these pictures that are of _his life,_ yet a life he can’t even remember. 

He opens the most recent, Fallon in a red dress on a rowboat; exactly like she’d described. He knew she wasn’t lying, but it didn’t stop the fact that he had no memory of this girl, no recollection of her or them or anything they’d been through. 

He just felt…indifferent to everything; it was hard to feel anything towards something, _someone_ you didn’t remember meeting or ever interacting with. 

And it was insanely frustrating to have this…this _void_ in your mind. To know that two years had happened and had been lived since what you’d last remembered, but to not recall any of it, not have any idea of anything you’d accomplished or been through. 

He just wants _something_ to spark his memories, anything; he just wants to _remember_. 

He opens his texts next, feeling defeated in that anything will help, hopeless that he’ll ever even remember the past two years of his life, but the noises around him haven’t died down in the slightest, so he gives reading some messages a shot. 

Besides his mom’s messages at the top, letting him know she was on the next flight to Atlanta to see him, it’s _Fallon’s_ name who’s directly under hers. He opens it, the last of the messages being one _he_ sent.

_I love you,_ it simply said.

He doesn’t remember sending it, he knew he wouldn’t; he just wishes he could. 

But suddenly the grey bubble pops up with three little dots, indicating that the person on the other end is typing, that _Fallon_ is typing on the other end. 

The little bubble goes away almost as soon as it appears, but those little dots start right back up again and he hangs on in anticipation to what she’s trying to say; but that light grey rectangle is gone before he has a chance to really even think of what that could be. It pops up a third time, the longest of them all, hanging idle as he just watches each dot light up one after the other. 

But a message never comes. 

That small cloud of hope disappears right before him, only leaving him to wonder what she wanted to say but couldn’t bring herself to. 

It seems to stop then, the indication that she’s typing anything coming to an end. He gives it a minute to see if it starts again, but it doesn’t, so he puts his phone away and hopes sleep comes to him easier than his memories seem to be coming to him. He settles against the uncomfortable hospital bed, wires draped over him as he tries to get comfortable against the stiff sheets, longing for something he can’t remember he had. 


	40. you were gonna make me breakfast?

She stirs awake slowly against her fluffy pillows, blue eyes fluttering open to the bright sunlight already gleaming through her sheer window curtains; the color of the beaming rays tell her it’s well into the morning already. Her eyes trail to the clock on her wall, 10:32am, much later than the two of them ever slept in the morning, but they’d been out well into the night - so the late hour doesn’t surprise her. 

She looks down at her arm which feels oddly numb, surprised to find Liam curled up directly against her body, head resting on her upper arm and his fingers twined with the hand she has resting against their white sheets. It was a different sight; it was usually her who woke up curled against his chest, her arm splayed over his stomach, her pushing herself as far into his embrace as she could. 

It makes her heart swell with a love she didn’t know she could have, didn’t know she could _feel_ for another individual. Yet he came along and proved her way of thinking all wrong; she _could_ love, she could _be_ loved - deeply and fully and unconditionally. 

She feels him move against her, a small moan escaping his lips as he comes out of his sleep before his deep voice greets her, “Morning, babe.”

“Hey, sleepy,” she says softly, squeezing the hand that’s linked with hers. 

His thumb starts rubbing against her knuckles in circles in the comfortable silence surrounding them. Her head falls against the top of his, eyes heavy as she fights off falling back to sleep, even though she could easily do so with his warmth and body flesh against her. 

“What time is it?” She feels his free hand move up to wipe the lingering sleep from his eyes. “I’m starving.”

“It’s quarter of eleven,” she says softly. “I would’ve had breakfast ready but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Aw, babe. You were gonna make me breakfast?”

“No,” she scoffs. “I was going to call down to the kitchen and have them bring something up for us but I couldn’t reach my phone.”

His hand pulls away from hers then, and she tries to reach out for him once more, not ready to give up the moment they’re currently sharing; but he only moves his body further up the bed and settles his head against her chest. His arm loops across her stomach and he links his fingers with her other hand, holding her close against him. 

“You smell nice.” Her fingers start weaving their way through his hair, his breath hot against the crevice of her neck. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s Dior,” she mutters, fingertips still weaved into his hair, playing with the short strands of his hair at the nap of his neck as he lets out a muffled _mmm_ in response. “Rose water.“

“I like it.”

He pushes his body up to look at her, eyes meeting together in the middle when he starts to lean in. She meets him the middle, lips melting against each others in a good morning kiss before he pulls away, only to settle himself back into the comfort of her arms. 

She relishes in the silence, the way it’s not uncomfortable to just sit there curled up into each other without saying any words at all. Her fingers still weave in and out of his dirty blonde hair, his hand squeezing against her smaller one gently. She’d be more than happy to spend the remainder of their day in bed wrapped up tightly in each others arms just like this. 

Until he breaks that silence with a reasonable request. 

“Can you call down for that breakfast now?”


End file.
